Adventures of a Sweetroll
by Abbatemarco
Summary: This is a goofy book that I wrote for Morrowind a little while ago about...well you'll just have to find out. :P


Sweat. It fell from his brow.

Exasperated. He couldn't stop.

Truth. It was so close...

"Would you put that thing UP already! The movie won't stay paused forever, ya know!"

"Huh?" Ralf lifted his tired face to meet the accusing glare of his twin brother, Yamoe.

Yamoe rapped his fingers on his knee impatiently, "Give it a rest, will ya? You've been staring at that ratty piece of paper for ages. You're startin' to give me the creeps."

"Oh, sorry...Listen, Yamoe...I think I'm gonna call it a night. You can watch the movie by yourself, right?" Ralf gripped that small piece of parchment that he held in his palm.

"Yeah, I guess. You go have fun with that trash you love so much."

"It's not trash!" Ralf stuffed the prized paper into his pocket angrily, "This paper is a portal to another dimension! Just you wait! I'm gonna find out what it means and then you'll be wishing you were the one who dug it up in the backyard!"

"Suuuure, man. Whatever you say."

"Phssk! I'll see you in the morning. Maybe by then I'll have this thing deciphered..."

"Night, bro. Don't let the door hitcha on the way out."

"What was that?" Ralf sneered, cocking his head to glare at Yamoe.

"Watch out!"

There was a loud 'thud' as Ralf's skull smacked into the door ahead of him.

"Grrr..." he muttered, rubbing the back of his head, "I'll show you, punk."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"I've got it! I've got it!" Ralf hollered, bursting into the pantry and filling his arms with an assortment of baking ingredients.

"What's you deal man," Yamoe yawned, "It's way too early for this kind of thing."

"I figured it out! The paper I found! It's a recipe for a food that they eat in the other dimension!"

"Yamoe itched his belly lazily, "Uh huh. That's nice. Wake me up when breakfast is ready."

"Wait! I need you to help me make it! The people in the other dimension don't have the same ingredients as us, but I found some similarities." Ralf stared at the small paper in his trembling hands and pointed at a list of strange symbols, "See here? This ingredient is called Kwama Cuttle. They get it by killing these giant worms and extracting it from their..."

"Alright. Alright. I get the idea," Yamoe interrupted.

"Kwama Cuttle is REALLY similar to flour! SO! In place of it, I'm going to..."

"You're gonna use flour, huh."

"YEAH!"

Yamoe sighed and rubbed his temples, "Man, you're unstable."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"We've done it, Yamoe!"

"What are they called again?"

"Sweetrolls...mmmm...such a beautiful name. I can almost taste it."

"Whoah man. Watch it."

Yamoe and Ralf stared at the pan of copper-colored muffins that sat atop the counter, sneakily filling the room with an unearthly aroma.

"Go ahead and try one, Yamoe," Ralf buzzed, reaching for one of the fluffy cakes.

The instant his fingers touched one of the strange pastries, they began to dissolve into dust, along with the rest of his arm. In a matter of seconds, Ralf's entire body was being disentigrated.

"RALF!" Yamoe screamed, "I don't know what to do!"

Ralf stared at his hysterical brother and smiled, "You should try a sweetroll."

Then, he was gone. By the time it was over, there was nothing left of Ralf for Yamoe to scoop up and cry over. So tragic...

But was Ralf really gone?

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Ralf opened his swollen eyes and observed the odd world that surrounded him. He attempted to move, but quickly became aware that there wasn't anything to be moved. He had no arms, no legs, no hair, and no...

"Noooooooooo!" Ralf cried silently, for he had no mouth.

"Alright kid! Hand over the sweetroll and we won't smash your face in!" a husky voice commanded.

Ralf scanned the area ahead of him and noticed that he was being held within someone's palm. He could see small copper-colored crumbs scattered across the grooves of the young flesh.  
Copper-colored...

Could it be that Ralf had been turned into a sweetroll? Had he succeeded in crossing over to the other dimension? How could that be?

"Never! My Grandma gave me this sweetroll! There's no way I'm gonna hand it over to you, orc!"

"Hahahahaha! You pathetic little s'wit! I'm gonna show you what happens when you pick a fight with a Gro-Majar!"

"So be it!" Ralf's wielder spat.

Suddenly, he hurled Ralf to the ground below him, ruining his perfect muffin top. Ralf rolled over to glare at the traitor, but his gaze was interrupted by an enormous foot coming down on top of him.

There was a distinct 'squish' as Ralf was smushed into Oblivion. All that was left of him was a crumbly pile of shoe-colored sweetroll, destined to rot in the Balmora street forever...

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The moral of this story: DO NOT SELECT THE MULTIPLE CHOICE OPTION:

"Drop the sweetroll and step on it, then get ready for the fight."

WHEN CREATING YOUR MORROWIND CHARACTER.

The End.


End file.
